


Summer Dreamin'

by valda



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anal Fingering, Biting, Blow Jobs, First Time Blow Jobs, Hand Jobs, M/M, Rimming, benarmie, characters are 18
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-23
Updated: 2017-07-23
Packaged: 2018-12-06 00:07:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11588970
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valda/pseuds/valda
Summary: It's the summer before college starts, and Armitage is stuck at his father's ratty lake house. The vacation has gone about as well as he expected—that is, it's been awful. But an oddly attractive trespasser might change that...





	Summer Dreamin'

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was written using words submitted to me on Tumblr. See the end notes for all the words. Originally posted [here](http://cosleia.tumblr.com/post/162694631548/summer-dreamin).

Armitage collapsed to a sitting position at the end of the pier, swinging his legs over the side so that his bare feet dangled just above the water. As he sucked air into his burning lungs, he watched the sunlight glinting across the rippling surface of the lake, watched bubbles rise from the murky depths below. The sun was setting, and frogsong echoed across the water, and in the cloudless sky birds circled and dove. It could almost be considered peaceful, if “peace” weren’t anathema to Brendol Hux, outright blasphemy in the Hux household. This was a brief respite, not even a ceasefire. The calm before the unavoidable storm.

He wondered, as he always did, if it would have been better to stay, to wait it out. The question was moot: he was here now, breath finally coming a little easier, heart slowed to a less frantic rate, and he’d trudge back to the house in a little while, and his room would be trashed, and something he treasured would be taken away, and Maratelle would frown at him and call him disobedient, and Father would yell, and eventually Armitage would be allowed to curl up on his ratty mattress beneath his old camouflage blanket and go to sleep. It was moot, but Armitage worried at the question anyway. There must be something he could have done differently. Something he could change next time. Something. Anything.

Father said he was irredeemable. Maybe it was true.

Enveloped as he was, frantic ruminations giving way to a grim sort of melancholy, Armitage didn’t hear the footsteps approaching along the pier until the person making them was practically on top of him. His head whipped up at the last moment even as his hands scrabbled backward to push him away from the edge and onto his feet. But it wasn’t Father, or Maratelle. It was a boy Armitage didn’t know, a tall, lean, but muscular boy with broad shoulders and overlarge ears and shining black hair, and he was standing with his hands on his hips looking down at Armitage appraisingly. The boy had obviously been swimming; he wore only neon blue swim trunks and was dripping water everywhere, painting the pier with dark splatters.

Armitage belatedly realized he hadn’t finished standing up, and he shifted to get his feet under him. The boy bent at the waist and offered his hand, but Armitage ignored it, rising under his own power. He lifted his eyes to the boy’s face in time to catch the end of a smirk.

The back of Armitage’s neck suddenly felt hot, and the skin of his forearms prickled. He frowned at the boy. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

“I’m Ben,” the boy answered, putting out his hand again. “What’s your name?”

“Armitage,” he said automatically, still frowning. He stared at the boy’s hand for a moment before tentatively taking it. “This is my father’s land. What are you doing here?”

“Swimming,” Ben said, his tone implying that this should be obvious. He squeezed Armitage’s hand instead of shaking it. “Armitage, huh? Kind of a fancy name.”

“Unlike Ben,” Armitage agreed. “We’re opposites.”

“Hmm,” Ben said, cocking his head to one side. His wavy hair glistened in the setting sun, as the surface of the lake had glimmered. He had huge brown eyes, deep and dark and glinting. His nose jutted out like a monument, and his mouth was wide and red. He was all wrong, a jumble of incongruous parts. “We might be more alike than you think.”

Armitage offered a smirk of his own. “I truly doubt that.” He glanced down to their interlocked hands. His palm was beginning to sweat. “Were you planning on letting go anytime soon?”

Ben grinned, baring a set of teeth that like were just like the rest of him. “No,” he said.

Armitage attempted to yank his hand away. Yet despite his hand still being slick from his swim, Ben’s grip was like a vise. Armitage tugged and tugged and watched Ben’s bicep flex, watched Ben’s pectoral muscle jump.

Ben suddenly tugged back, and Armitage stumbled forward, free hand coming up to catch himself on Ben’s shoulder a split second too late. The front of his khaki shorts felt moist where they’d come up against Ben’s wet swim trunks. His T-shirt was sticking to Ben’s bare chest, and he and Ben were cheek to cheek, hands still locked together—

Armitage knew what this was. His heart fluttered in his chest. He squeezed Ben’s hand and moved his mouth to Ben’s ear. “Not here,” he said.

Suddenly his hand was free, and Ben was drawing back in surprise. “Not here?” he repeated. “But maybe…somewhere else?”

“Somewhere else,” Armitage confirmed, voice only shaking a little. His heart was thundering now, rivaling the way it had hammered when he’d fled the house and torn through the woods to get to the lake. He took Ben’s hand again, wet his lips, and leaned in to kiss that huge, stupid mouth in what he hoped was an unequivocal move. Ben gasped, and murmured something, and kissed back, sloppy.

After a moment Armitage pulled away, heady and breathless. Ben’s face was flushed and his lips were even redder, and Armitage couldn’t help but feel proud of how well his first kiss had gone. “Come on,” he said, his voice coming out considerably more roughly than he’d expected, and he turned and dragged Ben down the pier.

The boathouse, as Father called it, was in truth a small equipment shed that happened to store boat care tools, maintenance supplies, and a rafting tube. There was just enough room inside for two people to stand by the shut and latched door.

As soon as Armitage managed to get the bolt in place, Ben was on him, large hands finding his waist and bodily turning him, pushing him back against the door and pressing their bodies together. Armitage could feel something hard grinding against his thigh through their clothing, and his own cock twitched and swelled.

Ben was surprisingly light-fingered, hands fluttering up Armitage’s arms to his shoulders, then down his sides. Armitage felt voracious. He wrapped his arms around Ben’s neck and pulled him in as tightly as he could. He wanted more. He wanted everything. “Touch me,” he half-ordered, half-pleaded, and Ben immediately slid one hand down the front of Armitage’s khakis.

“Commando?” Ben panted, and the look of surprise on his face was immensely satisfying.

“Underwear is superfluous,” Armitage informed him, nuzzling his face into Ben’s neck.

“You talk as fancy as your name,” Ben said.

Any retort Armitage might have had was banished from his mind as Ben’s fingers found his cock. “Ah,” he said, head falling back.

Ben took the opportunity to nuzzle Armitage’s neck in return; Armitage felt those odd teeth grazing his skin as Ben’s fingers explored his length. “It’s like silk,” Ben murmured.

Armitage couldn’t help himself. “Yours—isn’t—?” he panted, eyes squeezed shut with pleasure.

“I guess,” Ben allowed, and then he bit Armitage’s neck hard enough to make him shriek.

“Ben!” Armitage gasped, shuddering. Ben lapped against the bite, and it was the sweetest comfort Armitage could imagine, and he sighed, feeling delirious. “What are you—doing?” he huffed out.

“You look good enough to eat,” Ben said. It was a cheesy line—even Armitage, who’d never had a date in his life, knew that—but the way he said it sounded oddly innocent. Sincere. Armitage felt a flush race through his body, from the top of his head all the way to his toes. “Could I?” Ben asked, sounding shy. “Eat you?”

Armitage didn’t know what that meant, but as far as he was concerned, Ben could do anything he wanted. “Okay,” he whispered.

Ben drew away from Armitage’s neck and kissed down his chest to his stomach, crouching down in front of him and working his khakis open. “Turn around,” Ben said, and with a deference Armitage wouldn’t have expected of himself, he obeyed without question. Once Armitage was facing the door, Ben slid his shorts down to his ankles. “Step out of one leg, at least,” Ben said, and Armitage did so. “Move your feet further apart. Lean against the door.”

Armitage sighed softly as Ben’s large hands shifted his body around until he was positioned the way Ben wanted him. Ass out, forearms propping him against the door, cock bobbing freely in the air, Armitage felt gloriously exposed. Ben could see him—Ben could see everything.

He felt Ben’s hands smoothing up the back of his thighs and he sighed again, a shiver running through him. Ben was so close to Armitage’s most intimate places. Armitage was letting this boy, this stranger, touch him where no one else ever had. And it felt so good.

Ben’s thumbs came up under Armitage’s ass, pulling his cheeks apart. Armitage had a sudden spike of confused panic—and then Ben’s mouth was there, lips pressed around Armitage’s hole, hot breath washing over him and making him shudder. “Ben,” Armitage moaned, and then Ben was probing at him with his tongue.

It was the strangest feeling, and it was also wonderful, inexplicable. Armitage’s whole body shook as Ben held him open, lapped at his ass, licked into him. Armitage’s cock was so hard he could barely think. Trembling, sparks shooting up his spine, Armitage pressed his ass back into Ben’s face, and Ben let him.

“Fuck,” Armitage said, and he felt bold, giddy, because swearing was not allowed in the Hux household. “Fuck, fuck,  _fuck_.” He didn’t want it to stop, but if he didn’t come soon he was afraid he’d go insane. “Ben,” he gasped. “Please.”

Ben’s mouth moved away from Armitage’s ass, and Armitage heard what sounded like Ben spitting. Then one of Ben’s fingers replaced his mouth, pushing past the pucker, fucking into Armitage, crooking in a way that made Armitage’s vision go white. Armitage howled just as Ben’s other hand, slick with spit, came up to wrap around his cock. “Fuck!” Armitage cried out. Ben pumped him once, twice, three times—and that was enough. More than enough. Armitage jerked and shuddered and came all over Ben’s hand.

Armitage’s legs trembled and gave way. Before he could slump to the floor, Ben wrapped an arm around his waist and eased them both down together, settling Armitage in his lap. Armitage’s head lolled back onto Ben’s shoulder. “Fuck,” he panted. “Fuck.”

“Was that good, Armitage?” Ben asked, sounding smug.

Armitage couldn’t think of a rejoinder. “Fuck,” he said.

For a time he simply lay back against Ben, eyes closed, breath still labored. But then he became aware of Ben’s cock, still hard and pressing rather insistently against his ass. “Ben?” he said questioningly, and he shifted a bit.

“Ung,” Ben said eloquently. “You’re—you’re really hot, Armie.”

Armitage couldn’t find the will to bristle at the undignified nickname. “You want me to…?” He trailed off, realizing he had no idea what to offer.

“You’re too tight for me to fuck you,” Ben said. It didn’t sound like a complaint. “But you could touch me maybe? And. Um. Maybe use your mouth?”

Armitage shifted against the bulge in Ben’s swim trunks again, and Ben groaned. Clambering clumsily off Ben’s lap, Armitage knelt in front of him. His ass felt oddly hollow; he thought maybe he wished Ben  _could_ fuck him.

Ben divested himself of his swim trunks, and they landed on the floor with a wet splortch. His cock sprang up, and it was sizeable, and it was different than Armitage’s, and for a moment Armitage just stared at it.

“Oh,” Ben said, “I’m uncut. Is that okay?”

Armitage didn’t know why it wouldn’t be. He leaned down and took the odd-looking head into his mouth.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Ben hissed.

Armitage could taste precome on his tongue. He swallowed to get the taste out of his mouth and Ben moaned loudly. “Yeah,” he said. “Ugh, Armie, fuck, yes.”

He didn’t really know what he was doing, so he did what he thought Ben might like. He imagined it would feel good for Ben’s cock to be all the way in his mouth, but he didn’t think he could get it all in, so he used his hand to cover the lower length.

“Suck it,” Ben pleaded, so Armitage did.

Armitage had imagined giving head before, but he’d had no idea what it would truly be like. It was both worse and better than he’d expected. Worse, because he didn’t feel like he knew what he was doing, and if he bobbed down too far he gagged. Better, because Ben was making all sorts of incredible, delicious noises, and Armitage was the one making him make those noises. Ben’s cries of pleasure belonged to Armitage, and he wanted to swallow them down. He wanted to swallow everything.

“Armie,” Ben choked out suddenly, “I’m—” And he came with a violent shudder, filling Armitage’s mouth with his spend. Armitage drank it all. He’d gotten his wish.

Lazily, the two of them shuffled around until they were side by side, then leaned back against the door and worked on catching their breath. Ben rested his head on Armitage’s shoulder and wove his fingers into Armitage’s. “You’re  _really_ hot,” he said again, dreamily. “Your body is just…bodacious.”

Armitage snorted. “Stick with ‘hot’, please.”

“Hot,” Ben murmured.

“And you’re…” Armitage wasn’t sure how to describe Ben. Was ‘handsome’ the right word for him? ‘Unique’? “You’re hot too,” he concluded, and as he said the words he realized they were true. Ben might be a little unconventional, but it  _worked_ for him. He had soulful eyes and a sweet smile and a striking nose, and the way he looked at Armitage…

Armitage closed his eyes. He could hardly believe any of this had happened. But there was no way he ever could have imagined someone like Ben.

It hadn’t been a hallucination. It was all real.

“Can I see you again?” Ben asked suddenly. “I want to see you again. We could get a burger or something. Or…”

“We could get a burger,” Armitage allowed. “We could also certainly do  _this_ again. Except I’m only here through the end of the week. I’m on vacation with my family. We live in Providence.”

“Oh,” Ben said. “Providence isn’t  _super_ far from Boston.”

“You live in Boston?” Armitage perked up a bit. “I’ll be living there in the fall, when I start at MIT.”

“No way.” Ben sat up, grinning. “I’m starting at the Boston Conservatory this fall.”

“Berklee,” Armitage started to scoff, but Ben’s face fell, and he cut himself off, too late.

“Yeah,” Ben said, turning away. “My parents think it’s stupid, too.”

“It’s not—it’s not  _stupid_ ,” Armitage said. He hugged his knees to his chest and buried his face in them. The cramped shed was utterly silent for a long moment. Finally Armitage couldn’t stand it anymore, and he asked, “So…your parents let you do something they don’t approve of?”

“Yeah.” Ben crossed his arms. “I mean, I am 18. Not like they can stop me. But I mean. Yeah. They’re helping with stuff, I guess.”

“I didn’t have a choice about MIT,” Armitage mumbled into his knees. “If I’d wanted to go somewhere else, I wouldn’t have been allowed.” He closed his eyes. “But once I start school, I’ll only have to see Father on holidays. Maybe not even then.”

Armitage would not have expected Ben to be perspicacious, or particularly sympathetic after being insulted, so he was surprised when Ben wrapped an arm around his shoulders and hugged him tight. Armitage leaned into the embrace, pressing his face into Ben’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

“It’s okay,” Ben murmured back, kissing the top of his head. “I mean, it’s not  _okay_ , but thanks. You can make it up to me by coming to my concerts.”

It occurred to Armitage that by agreeing, he would be making a commitment to a boy he’d only just met, a virtual stranger. A kind boy, to be sure. A very hot boy. A boy who’d spotted him on the pier and—

“Why did you come talk to me, anyway?” he asked, raising his head to look into Ben’s eyes. “On the pier.”

Ben blinked at him, then shrugged. “You looked lonely.”

A warm, buoyant feeling filled Armitage’s chest. “Okay,” he said, leaning forward to kiss Ben’s mouth. “I’ll come to your concerts.”


End file.
